A girl
by Wyndes
Summary: A tag for "Clash of the Titans" - first chapter is Zane figuring things out, second chapter is Jo doing the same.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I decided Zane needed to get hit over the head and that Fargo was just the guy to do it. I admit, Fargo's probably a little OOC (or even a lot OOC), but I have faith that Fargo could have pulled this off if he thought about it. _

_Also, I'm spending a lot more time on my original fiction these days; my version of Café Diem is a bistro with a psychic cook. I'd love it if you gave it a try (and many thanks to those who have) at fictionpress, at _fictionpress . com /u/759976/ (Remove the spaces.)

* * *

><p>"Hey." Zane looked up from the piece of wedding cake that he'd been crumbling to bits. Vincent's angel food cake was amazing, but he wasn't really in the mood for it. Fargo was standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Look, I've been thinking."<p>

"Uh-oh. That might be dangerous," Zane drawled.

Fargo rolled his eyes, but continued, "I was a crappy friend before."

Zane raised his eyebrows questioningly. What was he talking about? "Before?"

"Dessert," Fargo replied with a dismissive wave.

Zane shook his head, and frowned. "Still not getting it."

"I was paying so much attention to my own –" Fargo paused, searching for the right word, "—menu plan—" he finally chose "—that I ignored what you were saying."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Zane poked at the cake again with his fork, and then set it down on the table.

"Jo? Leaving?" Fargo replied.

Zane's gaze, almost automatically, crossed Henry's garage to where Jo stood talking to the happily re-married couple. Something she said had Henry throwing back his head with laughter, his arm tightening around Grace's shoulders, while Grace leaned into him, chuckling herself. Zane sighed. Was he really hanging out eating cake that he had no interest in on the off-chance that Jo would want to come back to his place tonight? Yep, he was.

"Yeah?" he asked, not really interested.

"Look, you know a lot more about, um, dessert, than I do," Fargo started.

_Uh, yeah_, Zane thought the words but didn't say them, with a touch of scorn for the obviousness of the statement.

"But I know more about Jo than you do," Fargo continued. Zane's head swiveled back to him. The hell he did. Except, maybe…

"And I know a lot more about the old you and Jo together."

Okay, that was clearly true. Putting a hand under Fargo's elbow, Zane steered him outside the garage, to the privacy of the dark parking lot. "Talk," he ordered.

"Remember when I told you that you didn't deserve Jo?" Oh, yeah, Zane remembered that moment. He'd thought they were going to die, trapped in outer space, and yet he'd still wanted to know what Fargo was blathering about.

"I think your exact words were that I never deserved to be in her pants," Zane reminded Fargo.

"Yeah, well, you didn't. And – no offense – you still don't."

Zane sighed again. Great. Like he needed Fargo telling him he wasn't good enough for Jo. That was going to make an already crappy evening more fun. Not that the wedding hadn't been nice, it had been, but it was just a reminder of the fact that he wasn't someone who was ever going to figure out how to have that in his life. Not that he'd ever really wanted it before, but…

"Look," Fargo was continuing, "You want Jo to tell you to stay, but don't you get it? You're asking her to put herself out there, to take the risk, but she's already been there, done that. And you flubbed it the first time around."

"Wait, what?" What the hell did that mean?

"She's already been in a relationship with you for years – she already knows exactly how, um, non-commitment friendly you are. She didn't even use the L-word and you were running scared."

Zane thought about that. It sounded right – like him, anyway. But it had to be wrong. "She had my grandmother's engagement ring. I couldn't have been that scared."

"Right. After years. And they weren't exactly smooth sailing. You never appreciated her, not really."

"What does that mean?" Zane's response was instantly defensive. Damn straight he appreciated Lupo. She was gorgeous, smart, kickass-tough. And the thing she called a spark between them was the hottest flame he'd ever felt. Not appreciate her? Right, that was why he was still hanging around this piss-ant town.

"Did you look at what she did to Henry's garage?" Fargo asked patiently.

Of course he had. It was draped with white tulle, and tiny fairy lights. It's not like you could miss it. "Um, yeah."

"Don't you get what it means?"

Holy shit, Fargo was really lecturing him about women. Hell must have frozen over. Zane was tempted to blow him off, but… well, he wanted to know. "What does it mean, Fargo?" he asked again, trying not to let his annoyance show.

"It means she's a girl. You – neither one of you – ever really treated her like a girl."

A girl? Huh. "Which is… what?"

"Flowers? Fancy dinners? Tickets to the ballet? Surprises? Valentine's Day?"

Ugh. Valentine's Day. What a nightmare that was, Zane thought automatically. And then he thought a little more, about the smile he sometimes managed to surprise out of Jo, the one that softened her entire face and lit up her eyes, relaxed the constant tension in her posture. He'd never figured out a way to get that smile on purpose. Maybe a really killer Valentine's Day could do it.

"Meat and potatoes?" Zane said thoughtfully.

"More like appetizers? And, um, champagne?" Fargo answered.

Champagne. There was an idea. What was Lupo like a little loopy? Zane wondered, trying to ignore the automatic tightening in his groin at the thought of a lightly giddy Jo.

"Look, all I'm saying is that telling her you were thinking about leaving is going to make her less likely to want to take a chance on you, to trust you. And if you're waiting for her to ask you to stay, then you're never going to be together, because she's not going to put herself through that again. If you want her, you're going to have to be willing to work for her."

Okay, so Fargo had just given him advice about women. But it wasn't bad advice. Hadn't he been thinking something along those lines himself? That the strictly sexual relationship that he'd always been happy enough with in the past was maybe missing something when it came to Lupo?

Zane wasn't totally committed – he was definitely not going for any stupid no sex crap like Fargo was pulling – but this was worth thinking about.

Fargo was watching him in the overhead light from the side of the garage and whatever he saw in Zane's face seemed to satisfy him. "Start by telling her you're not leaving."

Zane looked back toward the garage. What would Lupo say if he told her that? Would she shrug and say 'whatever'? Or would she lick her lips in that way she had and look up at him with those amazing brown eyes and lean a little closer to him?

Only one way to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

He'd left.

Without her.

And without saying good-bye.

She wasn't hurt, Jo told herself. Just surprised. That was all. Surprised.

After their heated farewells earlier in the day, she hadn't been sure she'd see him again. When she'd said, "Party's over," and tossed his shirt in his direction, she'd known that those might be their last words. She'd been almost glad for a nice Eureka-sized disaster to distract her.

But then, during the ceremony, when Warren had said, "Joy in the present," their eyes had met. And yeah, okay, maybe she'd thought that meant something.

He'd been looking at her, she'd been looking at him. Respect for the past, joy in the present, commitment in the future. Those weren't Warren's exact words, but it was how she'd wanted to hear them.

God, she was stupid. When was she going to learn? Their relationship wasn't like that. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't sweet. It wasn't love.

This Zane wasn't so different from her Zane. Back when she was hallucinating a romantic Zane, she'd realized that her relationship with Zane had never been the relationship of her dreams. She and Zane, they'd fallen into something together. And it had been fun, but it hadn't been a fairy tale.

Not that she needed a fairy tale. No, she was a grown-up, she didn't believe in childish happy endings. But she did need something more than… well, than what she and Zane had had together.

Sexually, they simply clicked. That was all there was to it. Although clicked was probably too mild a word – exploded might be more like it. Jo wondered what Warren would think if he knew that not twenty minutes after she'd assured him that Carter and Alison were always professional, she'd been pulling Zane's clothes off in her office in her eagerness to feel him inside her. For the second time that day.

It was probably just as well that he was leaving. She'd throw her career away for the taste of him. And then where would she be?

But damn it, that didn't mean he should have left without saying good-bye.

The jackass.

"Thank you so much for this, Jo. It was wonderful." Grace gave her a warm hug and Jo mustered a smile for her.

"You two go home now," Jo ordered. "It's your wedding night. Make the most of it." She arched her eyebrows at Henry suggestively.

"Oh, no, we can't leave you to clean this up," Grace began to protest, but Jo stopped her by gently turning her and pushing her toward the door.

"Yes, you can, and you will," Jo said firmly. Cleaning up would be good for her. Taking down the white fabric that she'd so carefully positioned earlier in the day, pulling the tiny lights off the walls and rolling them up – it'd be like tucking her dreams away to put them back into storage, something she very much needed to do. Damn it. Why had she let him get to her?

She was almost tempted to go looking for him. And do what? she asked herself. Yell at him? Have it out with him? Ha. No, she'd find him and just fall into bed with him. Or desk. Or bench. Or whatever the nearest convenient surface was. No, looking for him was a stupid idea.

Carter and Alison were talking earnestly off to one side and Holly and Warren seemed involved in a deep discussion of their own, but as they realized that Grace and Henry were leaving, everyone broke off their conversations for congratulations and well wishes. Vincent was first, and after he'd wished the happy couple joy, he crossed to Jo.

"I'll take the tables back to the café," he told her, and then, with a perceptive look, "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah." Jo took a deep breath and managed a tight smile. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" It wasn't like Vincent to persist. Jo didn't know what he was seeing in her face, but she couldn't hold onto her smile. For a fleeting moment, she knew the hurt showed in her eyes, and then she shook her head.

"I'll just clean up here," she said. "Thanks for your help, Vince. I couldn't have pulled this off without you."

He put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently, the wordless sympathy clear.

Damn it.

What she really should do was find Zane and kick his butt for being a selfish jerk. He'd just left.

Just left her at the garage.

Without saying a thing.

The rat.

Jo could feel anger starting to simmer. But anger was okay. Anger was better than hurt. She'd let everyone go and then she'd rip all the fabric and lights down and maybe she'd even scream a little. But she wouldn't cry. No, she definitely would not cry. That was not her thing.

Where was he? she wondered, as she turned away from the door. Gone home or gone, gone? Had he finally taken off the way he'd been promising all day? Was he headed to parts unknown, to far-flung cities or foreign countries?

"Hey."

Her reaction was so fast, so instinctive, that she didn't even have time to think before he was flat on his back, on the ground, coughing his protest.

"Oh, my God, Zane, I'm so sorry." She fell to her knees next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Ow," he said plaintively. "What the hell, Jo?"

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I – you – I – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't know you were – I thought you'd gone."

He was here. He was still here. But she'd already gotten used to the idea that he'd left and the slow boil of anger was still prickling the back of her throat.

"Remind me to walk louder next time," he said, rubbing the shoulder that she'd used to throw him.

If he could joke, he wasn't badly hurt. Jo sat back on her heels. "What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?"

"The hell if I know. Wherever it is that you're planning on going." She knew she was giving too much away with the snap in her voice. She'd tried so hard to keep it casual, to not let him get to her, to not care about him. But she couldn't help herself.

His smile was wry as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. "The ship to Titan doesn't leave for another two and a half months."

"Titan! But you said –," her words faltered to a stop. Despite her anger, the heat in his eyes was stirring a matching heat in her.

"I said I was a free man." His voice was husky, low, and the tone sent a shiver along her spine. "I was wrong."

"It's a full pardon."

"Mmm-hmm," he agreed, his gaze dropping to her lips. Oh, hell. She was melting already. She leaned toward him, then pulled herself back.

"You can go anywhere," she pointed out.

"Yep," he nodded. "But there's only one place I want to be."

"Titan?" The question was tentative. He hadn't seemed all that interested recently. What had changed his mind?

"No, not Titan," he answered, reaching up and sliding his hand around the back of her neck. His fingers on her skin were warm, almost hot, but Jo resisted the light pressure drawing her toward him.

"Then where?"

"You don't know?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't ask." Damn him. She wanted nothing more than to fall forward, to let herself go, to burn up again in the heat that was between them, but she couldn't. If she was going to survive his departure, she had to stop letting him get to her.

"Wherever you are," he replied simply.

_Oh. _

Jo stopped resisting.

She let herself fall forward. She let his hand pull her down to him, she let his lips take hers, she let the heat between them explode.

And with only the slightest hint of fear, she let herself fall back into love with him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm in a hate-everything-I-write mood and I have finally reminded myself that the joy of fanfiction is in writing and then LETTING GO! If you hate this, please don't tell me so. If they're out-of-character, so it goes. If it's too romantic, so it goes. If there's not enough description, so it goes. I don't know why I've decided that everything I write sucks, but I do know that tomorrow is a new Eureka and that gives us all a chance to reset. And maybe Jo and Zane will finally figure it out in that one! _


End file.
